


Mother of Invention

by Geonn



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen takes drastic measures to fulfill a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother of Invention

Helen tugged her gloves, making sure the fingers were tight. What she was about to do, she couldn't afford any slippage. She looked at the railing ten feet ahead and braced herself for potential failure. An errant gust of wind, a slight miscalculation in distance, and she could discover just how limited her longevity was. She pulled the balaclava down over her face and adjusted it so that she could see through the diamond-shaped eyeholes. She bent her left knee slightly, bounced twice on her right foot, and then ran across the roof.

She'd tried diplomacy. She'd tried bartering and purchasing the object outright. All of her attempts were rebuffed and resulted only in heightened security on the penthouse. Time was of the essence and she simply couldn't wait any longer.

When she reached the railing, she extended her hands with her thumbs cocked down. Her fingers wrapped around the rail and she used her momentum to leap. Her weight shifted from her feet to the palm of her hands, her legs relaxing as her arms tensed. Her body swung through the air like an inverted pendulum and then she was airborne. She angled her body like an arrow, tilted her head down in case she had to make any last minute changes, and landed on the penthouse balcony. She let her body collapse, pulling her left knee against her chest and letting her right leg extend behind her.

She waited, listening to for an indication someone had heard her. The living room beyond the sliding glass door remained dark and silent, so Helen rose and tested to make sure she hadn't sprained anything in her descent. Everything checked out, and she made a mental note to attempt the trick again should the need arise.

The lock was rudimentary; not unexpected for a twelfth floor balcony lock. She used the tools from her hip pack to gain entry. She was inside in seconds flat, pulling the door shut behind her before she examined the room's layout. Various _objets d'art_ filled the space, all of them lit by small spotlights that shined dim yellow auras on the statues, paintings and jewels.

Helen spotted the Saboat opal behind a plush loveseat, displayed on a wooden pedestal with a small lamp aimed at it from above. With the rest of the room in the dark, it was easy to see the subtle design on the surface of it, greens and swirling blues and whites and browns. It was easy to mistake the object as a globe that had been painted without the continents, and it was absolutely gorgeous to behold.

It was also the egg of an Abnormal called the Caenda.

A small Saboat tribe in eastern Africa had centuries ago taken on the responsibility of keeping the Caenda protected from the outside world. The creature, in return, made sure that the people of the tribe never hungered and suffered from great health. It was a truly symbiotic relationship. Unfortunately the Caenda only reproduced once in its life. Protecting the egg of the offspring until it could safely hatch was considered the tribe's most important job. For the first time in nearly seven hundred years, they had failed.

Helen approached the egg cautiously. She could see how the poachers could have mistaken it for a gem; it was truly magnificent to behold. She took out the bag M'wita had given to her for the safe transport of what he called "their Child." She examined the pedestal for signs of a security system and, seeing none, carefully transferred the egg from the platform to her bag.

She had just cinched the bag shut when the doors opened and the owner of the penthouse stepped inside. "--calls again, just tell her that..." McCallison froze as he processed what he was seeing, the dark shape of the burglar standing in front of his prizes. His thick eyebrows pulled together and his eyes widened as he realized what he and his personal assistant had interrupted. "Stop right there!"

Helen pulled the small black box from her belt and fired without taking the time for precise aiming. The prongs sunk into McCallison's chest, penetrating beyond the shirt just as Helen squeezed the trigger. Fifty thousand volts traveled along the length of the tiny wires, and McCallison's body tensed and dropped to the ground. Helen took advantage of the assistant's shock to rush him, slamming her shoulder into his chest and sending him flailing into the door as she passed him.

The security guards who had prevented her from using the front door rushed into the entry hall of the penthouse. Helen launched up the steps and barreled into the first one. She kept the egg tucked safely against her side as she knocked the man into his partner and sent them both crashing to the floor. Once she was in the hallway, she tugged a small pineapple-shaped charge from her belt and tossed it through the open door.

When the shock grenade went off, she was well out of its range. She took the emergency stairs, trotting down them three at a time and trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. She burst through the ground floor entrance without hearing sounds of a pursuit, tearing the mask off and ignoring the rat's nest the move turned her hair into as she scanned up and down the street.

A black sedan came to life, the headlights flicking on like a pair of luminous eyes opening. Its engine revved and the back door swung open as it approached her. Helen dove into the backseat easily, settling on the upholstery with a relieved sigh as the tires squealed and they pulled away from the curb.

Helen placed the bag on her lap and loosened the ties so she could withdraw the egg. She just had to make sure it had escaped unscathed. She turned it over in her hands, feeling how thick the shell was, and she smiled at the sight of its unblemished surface. She looked at her companion, who matched her smile.

"Well done," the Saboat ambassador said.

"The job is not over yet. I promised your people that I would deliver this to them safe and sound. We still have a few hours in which I will be a fugitive, and things could go very wrong." Of course, she was confident that nothing would go wrong. Still, it didn't hurt to be cautious. She looked toward the front of the sedan, to her hirsute driver. "To the airport, please. I know a very patient man who has waited long enough to have his property returned to him."


End file.
